


I Just Read Online That.....

by flaccid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Baby, Fluff, Gen, Godfather Harry, Harry just really loves babies, literally that's all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:04:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaccid/pseuds/flaccid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry just really wants the best for Ben and Meredith's baby.</p><p> </p><p>(He may over do it just a little, but that's alright, because hell if it keeps him from wanting a kid so early on in his life let him do as he pleases)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Just Read Online That.....

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to a lovely post, an idea sprung and I just couldn't help myself

The soft padding of feet against the ground had Ben mentally groaning, palms of his hands pressing into the silky sheets tucked over the mattress he and his wife lay on. Blinking his eyes to grow accustomed to the dark lighting, and the light that would surely be casting across his bedroom from the hallway, the door opening with a loud complaint.

 

He admires Harry's persistent, certainly, but he was already getting less sleep as it is with a new production on the way, and work becoming more and more hectic. This along with his pregnant wife, Meredith, who was almost constantly in a state of discomfort from the growing being inside her, had even a wink of sleep was appreciated.

 

A wink of sleep that he obviously wouldn't be getting tonight.

 

"Harry, go back to bed." He told the Nineteen year old making his way towards them, hiking himself up on the mattress, and shuffling between Ben and Meredith.

 

"I just read online, that if you rub the baby bump, it'll sooth the babies nerves." Harry whispers quietly, disregarding Ben's short of a pleading voice, and slowly slipping his arm beneath Meredith's. His fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt, hiking it over where the bump begins before lying his hand over her bellybutton. Meredith flinches from the cold, but he hushes her, "Shh, it's just me."

 

"Babies have nerves?" Ben questions light heartedly, ruffling his hair and scooting up higher against his headboard. "Look, Harry, I commemorate you for helping and showing such an interest but—"

 

"Also, I read that Ribena isn't as healthy as we think it is." he cuts Ben off in a hushed voice, head cocked to the side so he faced somewhat towards him, "A 288ml carton contains 43g of sugar which is more than 8 teaspoons." His hand continues rubbing softly, smiling contently with himself.

 

"Which is...?"

 

"Terrible for the baby."  


 

_ _ _

 

Returning home from a long, tedious day was always Ben's favorite part of said day. Normally he and Meredith would have a cuddle on the couch, sometimes Harry would come down and raid the fridge for a minute or two, before either sitting down on the couch opposite of them, or returning back to the attic despite Meredith's hatred for crumbs. Harry was a growing boy, even at his age he was still growing taller, broader, stronger — so Meredith made do, and also understood she'd have to get used to such crumbs from the boy of their own.

 

Ben carried a box of raspberry jam tarts in his hand, juggling it around to unlock the door before knocking into it with his hip, pushing it open wider. The house was silent besides the low thrum of the heater, and the sound of water running which could mean either Harry or Meredith was getting rid of filthy dishes. He couldn't imagine Meredith doing so, her stomach always bumping into the sink and Harry insisted that such an action was egregious for the baby.

 

So it wasn't very odd to see Harry scrubbing away at the old butter noodles pan in one of Ben's old barbecuing aprons, humming a soft tune to himself.

 

"Harry?" he questions, seeing his head perk up and turn to face Ben.

 

"Oh goodie!" he said gleefully, dropping the brush into the sink, "Could you finish up the dishes? I need to help Meredith from the bathtub, before we do nails."

 

Ben's face flushes, "Nails?"

 

"Yeah," Harry continues, pulling the apron from around his neck and lying it over the counter top, "It's difficult for her to reach her toes anymore, so I'm going to help French tip them." His eyes flicker passed the box of jam tarts, "Oh, you mustn't let Meredith see those. Hide them in the cupboard, highest near the fridge and we can eat them once she lies down for bed."

 

Hurrying from the kitchen, Harry bounds up the steps two at a time and calls Ben's wife with a heavenly tone. For a moment, Ben wonders why Harry has taken such a hovering cover of his wife whom he barely spends time with now, but he thinks that it's just for the baby and if he can avoid a hormone raving pregnant woman, then he should be thanking Harry with his life.

 

But he can't help but feel a small surge of jealousy, settling the jam tarts into the cupboard like Harry suggested and followed up the stairs, hearing soft murmurs that is wife was producing.

 

"Can't believe you fell asleep in the bath Merry. You sure you want to do French tips tonight, or would you rather tomorro— Ben! Thank god you cam—wait Merry, are you sure you want him to see you naked?"

 

"He got me pregnant, Harry," she laughs, "He's seen me before."

 

"Right, anyway, Ben? Would you be a doll and blow out the candles while I get Merry down for bed? Thanks, meet you downstairs in twenty." Ben hadn't so much as nodded before Harry was ushering Meredith out in a soft, hotel stolen robe, a hand protectively over her belly.

 

Sighing to himself, he blows out each candle, and shuts off the bathroom light.

 

 

 

Later, when Harry comes lightly down the steps, Ben is already stuffing the pastries into his mouth. At the sight of them in Ben's lap, Harry nearly jumps onto the couch besides him and snatches two before shoving both in his mouth. "I love you, I really do." he mumbles through a full mouth, crumbs spilling onto his shirt. "I haven't had sweets in a week. Promised I wouldn't eat them if she couldn't."

 

"About that," Ben started slowly, seeing as Harry turns to him with the crumbs on the corners of his lips and puppy-like eyes gleaming to him wearily, full of drowsiness and Ben believes it's best if he tackles this later, when Harry is less likely to throw a small fit, "Thank you, for all you do."

 

Harry smiles with his mouth closed, bucking his chin up and scooting closer to Ben, initiating a cuddle which Ben couldn't refuse. Lifting his arm up and wrapping it over the boys broad shoulders, wondering if he'd do this to his own son in the later years.

 

Harry may be a handful, but he was, in his childlike wonder, a good pretest, for the SAT in Meredith's stomach.

 

"I took up some knitting, and started a onesie."

 

 

 

**_ _ _**

 

At night Meredith's contractions were usually worse, making it terribly hard to drift off and even harder to stay still, squirming constantly on her side of the bed. She felt horrid for keeping Ben up at night, so it was a habit of hers to go up to the attic, wake Harry for some midnight tea and fall to sleep on the couch. Harry insisted that they attach a bell on a near by mantel for her to ring, explaining that the stairs are too steep and small for her to walk up without the chance of falling.

 

And it happened to be one of those nights, as her belly got bigger, the more she grew uncomfortable. This night in particular she wanted to jump out of her own skin; the covers too hot to be on but the air too cold to have them off. Sweat in small beads along her brow and the baby's kicks jabbing her bladder, making it feel as if she'd pee herself in mere seconds. (They don't know the gender of the baby quite yet, but she swears the little rough houser is a boy).

 

So she kicks off the covers, pushes herself off the mattress slowly, slipping her feet into the soft £80 "therapeutic" slippers Harry got as a baby shower gift, and pulling a thin cardigan over her body. With one hand on the bulge of her stomach, the other undulated by her side slowly as she avoids the creaks in the floorboards. Having discovered a pattern the first few nights of living here, when they first moved in and she would check the locks, _just_ to make sure her life didn't turn into one of those horror films.

 

However once she's in the hallway, the pattern no longer matters when the air kicks on and makes it's unearthly starting noise. For a moment she fears that Harry won't hear her ring the bell, and she would much rather not get chastised by a 19 year old for heaving herself up the attic steps. Though those fears sputter to an end as she realizes it's barely edging onto 11, and no doubt would he be up scrolling through on his phone, or playing around on his computer.

 

Meredith's dainty fingers wrap around the string, tugging on it lightly and producing the small tingling sound that would let Harry know she was awake. The jingles remind her of Christmas and absentmindedly she notes to get Harry something extravagant this year, for all of his help.

 

"You caught me just in time Merry." he chirps, nearly hopping from one step to the other, "Just about to nod off with the phone above my face. Would'a hurt like a bitc- oh excuse me." His arm wraps around Meredith's, the other one lying to rest on her stomach, "Read online that they're most likely to start picking up swears at the age of 10, if you curse around the belly."

 

"Do you just lie in bed searching about babies all night." she teases, and a blush blotches at Harry's smooth skinned cheeks.

 

"Just wanna be a good friend is all." he murmurs lightly, "Besides, I'm too young to start thinking about children, and if this is away to subdue those 'maybe a baby isn't that bad to have at 19' thoughts away, then so be it!"

 

He settles her onto a padded stool, with the small heating pad on the backside of it so Meredith's back stayed warm and cozy, having pains in it regularly from the extra weight. Harry's already placing the kettle on the stove, humming a soft tune to himself before sliding his sock clad feet against the floor, over to the cupboard nearest the fridge. Meredith fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist, paying no mind to Harry until he plopped a box of sweets onto the granite top island.

 

"I won't tell if you don't." he smiles, tearing away the plastic wrap.

 

"But you're the one who said I couldn't-"

 

"Well, I maybe, sorta, told Ben that he couldn't either unless you were long past asleep. Also, I didn't want him eating all the chocolates, because these are my favorite." He whispers as if sharing some secret he's kept for years, pulling out the caramel filled sweets and plucking two out, one for him and one for Meredith, holding it out towards her and watches as she snatches it. "Slow down, hungry hyena."

 

"Harry, you've not let me touch anything remotely sugary for the past six months." Biting into the chocolate, she hums softly, savoring the flavor.

 

"Right, right." he nods, popping one into his mouth and humming for himself.

 

She chews, swallowing with a gulp, and reaches for another, "What's it like on the tour bus?" It was a question she'd always wondered, but never got around to asking. That's what a lot of these late nights turned into: a long game of twenty questions, that usually ended when they make their way to the living room and Harry turns on reruns of 'A League Of Their Own' for them to fall asleep to.

 

"Which one?" he asks, sliding his way towards the kettle at the very beginnings of it's high pitched squeal.

 

"There's _two_?" Meredith's voice peeks a bit, unaware that they lugged two around, especially with how much gas has been nowadays.

 

"Sure," he answers, pouring a stream into each mug, "One for if you want to sleep after a show, and the other if you're all hyped up still, after." Explaining it nonchalantly, he slides his way over again, and Meredith holds back a small laugh from his childish ways. Recalling that she'd done so as a kid, slipping around and declaring she was a ice skating ballerina, and nobody could convince her otherwise.

 

"Which do you spend the most time on?" she digs further. Not to be nosy, just to keep the conversation going. Harry's always so concerned over her, and how her life is going that she never gets to simultaneously live through popstar's head.

 

"It depends really, but normally I'm completely worn out after so I go to the quiet bus. Light a candle, eat something, scroll through twitter or instagram, talk to my mom, sleep, etc. etc." he takes a loud sip from his cup, large hand wrapping around it's entirety, "On the other bus it's loud, vibrant and more than overwhelming. A game of Fifa, a movie, debates over cheddar and various other cheeses." He fiddles with the rings on his fingers, "It gets pretty scary sometimes."

 

"Are you excited to go back on tour?" Meredith asks, aware that Harry likes having something to do everyday and the year break gave him nearly nothing to keep himself preoccupied. Perhaps that was another reason why he did as much as he's done for her and the growing being inside her, but then again, Harry had always been a fan of babies, so this wasn't particularly out of character for him.

 

"Definitely." he says smiling, "But I'll miss you and Ben a whole lot."

 

She returns his smile, pondering an idea in her mind. Harry had done so, so much for this baby already, and cared a lot about it's wellbeing in the womb, no doubt would he bring it under his wing afterbirth. Meredith has seen how he is with children, toddlers, babies, just kids in general, and knows that they're always so fond of him as well.

 

And she's sure Ben wouldn't mind.

 

"Harry, I have a question for you," she starts, not a trace of doubt in her mind on the decision.

 

He hums a small response, and she takes a short breath before continuing.

 

"Would you be the Godfather of the baby?"

 

First his eyes light up, and his face is swarming with uncertainty as if he were making sure he'd heard her right, not wanting to jump the gun if it was misunderstood. When Meredith didn't correct herself, he nearly hops from his seat with a smile lit up so bright on his face, she swears his cheeks could split at any moment.

 

" _Me?_ " he says lightly, mouth hanging slightly agape when she nods her head. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes, a million times, from the moon and back. I would absolutely love to be!"

 

She has to shush him so he won't wake Ben up, but she's smiling and giggling along with him. Loving how excited he was getting and accepting the hug he leans over to give, squeezing her with a hug smothered with how thankful he was to have been asked. "You're the best Merry." He utters into her neck.

 

Meredith can only dream of her own child being this affectionate. 


End file.
